


Hooked

by Skeletical



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Injury, M/M, One Shot, Short One Shot, someone is literally hanging on a meathook
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:41:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skeletical/pseuds/Skeletical
Summary: They say you never forget your first time. Dwight wishes he'd never had it.





	Hooked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lust/gifts).



> It's really short. Inspired by my friend because honestly, I only ever write DbD because of her.

The moment the hook breaks through his skin, the only thing that Dwight can register is the absolute anguish that explodes from his shoulder. The resistance that his shoulder blade offered is quickly broken though and the metal pierces further into his body, pushing through muscle and grazing bones. Before he can stop himself a scream rips itself from the confines of his lungs and from pure instinct, his hands grab onto the protruding end of the hook that is now securely lodged into him. The sharp tip is sticking out of his front and his hands are clinging to the rusty metal that is sleek with his warm blood. There is no thought in his mind. His whole being is focused on the pain that’s screaming for attention; the agony that’s bouncing around in his entire being. Dwight doesn’t know where or even who he is in that moment. His vision has gone black and it’s honestly a miracle that he hasn’t fainted from sheer shock. What feels like a hundred years turns out to be only a second as the man opens his eyes, his gaze falling on the killer looking at him with satisfaction that makes him sick. It mixes with the nausea already in his stomach from the pure torture that’s throbbing from his shoulder. Wet tears are already steadily rolling down his cheeks, sweat breaking out on his forehead and his throat feels raw. His feet kick and it agonizes his wound only further, pulling another yell from his throat before he slumps. He’s now hanging from the hook with his entire weight and if Dwight had any energy left to cry and scream and beg for it to end, he would. But it hurts. It hurts so much. He’s never felt anything like this. Not this bad. He feels the blood on his hands, his injury throbbing angrily as he feels the threat of the hook ripping through what’s left of his shoulder pull at his bone. His full weight, resting on the bone the hook is penetrated under. It hurts. 

Dwight’s vision flickers, he sees the killer turn and leave. He moans pitifully, his body in too much pain to do much else than that. Everything is dark. The next moment he sees some tall grass move in the distance. Dwight wishes for death just to be rid of this pure torture. He moves his hands up again, attempting to pull himself up a little to give his shoulder some respite, but there’s not enough strength in his arms to do so. Instead, he flails uselessly before going limp once more. This time, he’s sure he actually blacks out because the next moment he knows, the weight on his shoulder lessens. He blinks blearily, feeling the hook slide unpleasantly through the wound and then his feet hit the ground. He slumps forward a little, forcing his eyes to focus and he sees Jake who looks at him with concern. Not hidden, not mild, but open concern. If Dwight hadn’t been in such a state, he would’ve made a mental note of it. Instead, he allows Jake to sling his good arm over his shoulders and he limps along with the other man when he starts walking them to a safer place. His shoulder hurts, he feels weak and Dwight would be surprised if he could ever use his left arm again but adrenaline kicks in before he can feel too sorry for himself or worry about bleeding out. 

Jake sits him down, doesn’t bother with removing Dwight’s shirt and instead goes for his medkit immediately. Dwight feels his everything going woozy and he doesn’t know how it happens, but when his vision returns to him, he’s looking at Jake’s throat as his head rests on him. Added to the thick smell of blood is now the scent of forest and pines? It gives Dwight something to focus on other than the pain and he gladly takes it. He focuses on Jake, on the man’s breathing, feeling him move, listening to his quiet curses and he tries to figure out exactly what he smells of. Forest, pines…. Musk, but there’s something else there. Something underneath all of it and Dwight doesn’t get the chance to label it anything else than ‘Just Jake’. 

Before long, the spectacled man’s shoulder is bandaged up securely and it no longer feels like his arm will fall off. Dwight looks up at the other man, grabs his arm before Jake can turn and leave. Jake, in turn, looks shaken and surprised, glancing at the man’s hand before back at his face and Dwight opens his mouth. 

His voice isn’t pretty, it’s quiet and raw and he’s practically croaking, but he needs to say it. 

“Thank you.” 

Jake says nothing. Instead he offers a small nod, a squeeze to Dwight’s good shoulder and then he turns and leaves once more. 

Dwight can only take a breath before he gets back to his feet and continues on. Every step rattles his shattered shoulder but he can’t give up; his friends need him.


End file.
